


Junkyard Shrooms Aren't Psychedelic (Just Psychic)

by LaughingStones



Category: Motorcity (Cartoon)
Genre: Dom/sub, Experience Difference, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Telempathy really, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, rendered partly moot by telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23386087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: Chuck watched the road through Mike’s eyes for a moment, and then Mike glanced over at him, just checking, and there was this bizarre disembodied sensation in looking at himself from the outside. Andwowhe lookedreally differentthis way. Or--he looked the same, but Mike’s feelings about what he saw were so different from Chuck’s that it was like looking at someone else entirely.Mike looked at his hands and sawpale freckled sexy clever, thought his long skinny neck was attractive and wanted to leave hickiesall over it, holy crap.*Chuck abruptly becomes psychic! He finds out surprising new information and puts it to excellent use. Mike sure thinks so, anyway.
Relationships: Mike Chilton/Chuck
Comments: 18
Kudos: 101





	Junkyard Shrooms Aren't Psychedelic (Just Psychic)

They shouldn't have gone into the junkyard in the first place, it was dangerously near the edge of Terra land, but Chuck spotted a car part they'd been looking for all over and there were no Terras in sight for the moment, so they went for it. They should’ve known that _not in_ _sight_ didn't mean _not around_.

Mike scrambled up the junk pile to grab the part, a nice little Harveld converter, while Chuck stood uselessly below, chewing his nails and yelping every time the pile shifted. It meant that when three Terra guys showed up, Chuck was the one they went for first.

Chuck could've activated his slingshot, but when he was being charged by really fast-moving maniacs, running seemed like a better option. Mike came tearing down, staff in hand, and two men broke off the chase to fight him. Chuck dodged behind another towering pile of junk and kept running, going through a corner of the junkyard they hadn't explored.

God, he hated Terra land, there were weird mushrooms everywhere. Puffs of spores floated up as he dashed through an outcrop growing on a junk foothill, but he didn't have time to worry about creepy Terra plants and their possible horrifying consequences for his respiratory system because the other guy’s footsteps were way too close on his heels. And then not so close, and he heard laughter. Chuck kept moving, but dared a glance back over his shoulder--which made his head spin so hard he almost fell over.

The guy chasing him had stopped running, was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, snickering like someone had told him a mean joke. Chuck stumbled to a halt, mostly because he was suddenly having trouble staying on his feet. A strange pain was growing in his chest and head, a pressure that made him shake his head dizzily and then drop to the ground.

“Pathetic,” the Terra man sneered. “Anyone else might be _more_ able to face me now, but not a skinny twig like you.”

Chuck opened his mouth to argue or question, and doubled over as a wave of-- _something_ , something terrible--washed over him, burning like acid. A surge of anger, bitterness, scorn, and malicious amusement, and threaded through the feelings were words. _Invaders, idiot enemies, coming to our territory alone and unprepared,_ and an image of Chuck hunched on the ground, shivering.

It took a minute to get through the pain in his head enough to realize that what he was feeling wasn't random; the anger and contempt flooding him like poison matched the expression on the man’s face perfectly. Mushroom spores that made people telempathic, sure, _great_ , why not. It made as much sense as those fear spores.

The man stalked forward, steady on his feet after one wobble, and Chuck scrambled up to keep his distance, swallowing hard to keep his stomach from flipping. It really wanted to. Psychic attacks were a new and awful experience, and he could barely stay upright under the burning onslaught.

 _Listen to you_ , he heard, distinct as if it had been spoken. _So afraid, and I'm not even hurting you yet_.

 _Fuck you_ , he thought, hot with shame, and realized that they were close to Mutt. If he could just dodge behind her long enough to get his slingshot up--

 _Oh no you don't_ , came the snarled thought, and Chuck knew which way the man was going to lunge, could feel it, and went the other way. He wasn't fast enough: the man was reaching out to grab him when they both stumbled like they'd been pushed, because a tidal wave of anger and protective concern was sweeping towards them.

“Hey!” Mike yelled, tearing around a corner towards them, and Chuck dove out of the way while the Terra man was distracted wondering where his companions were.

The fight didn't last long, for all that the Terra guy seemed to think this thing would give him some kind of advantage. Mike chased him away, and jogged over to put a hand on Chuck’s shoulder as he leaned shakily against the car.

“You okay?” Mike said, dark eyes anxious, and at this range it was like being swamped in _Mike_ ness. Which, after the Terra guy’s malice, came as a huge relief. Chuck kind of fell over on him, clinging to his jacket, burrowing into the warmth of concern and affection and letting it soothe the raw ache the Terra man had left on the inside of his head.

He was shaking, breathing fast and panicked still, but having Mike close helped, solid and stable and caring, his anger a quiet backdrop, protective and aimed outward instead of at Chuck. God, Mike felt so good compared to that crazy guy. Mike wasn't bitter and enraged at everything, he was kind and warm and worried, he _cared_.

Chuck didn't remember to answer the question until a hint of actual fear showed up in Mike, nagging, _God what's wrong, is he okay he has to be okay_ , and he gasped a little at the sharpness of it and said, “Fine, I'm, I'm okay, Mikey.”

Mike sighed in relief and ruffled his hair. “Had me worried there, buddy! He didn't land a hit or anything, right?” _He's okay, all right, little shaken maybe but it's okay, we're good. Get home, hand this over to Dutch, then we can get over to the Cablers’..._

“N-no,” Chuck said a bit late, distracted by the stream of Mike’s thoughts, the updating to-do list. “He didn't touch me.”

“Great! We should probably go before they come back,” Mike pointed out, patting Chuck’s shoulder, and instead of jerking away from Mike like he normally would, he stepped back slowly, because... it wasn't an excuse. What he was getting from Mike wasn't _get off me already, geez_ , it was _feels so nice (wish we didn't have to move)_. _They'll bring back a lot more people, though, we gotta go_.

Chuck headed around the other side of Mutt, almost not seeing what was in front of him thanks to the vivid sensations coming from Mike, fading annoyance at the Terras and a watchful thread of concern over Chuck, satisfaction at having won the fight, and an underlying confidence; of course he won, Mike was used to winning fights. It was weird to feel that easy certainty from the inside, especially because it… wasn't as simple as it looked from the outside. Sure, he was a good fighter and he knew it, there was a pride and confidence like Chuck had in his programming abilities, but there was also a wariness, a tension that was unexpectedly familiar to Chuck.

Barely aware that he was in his seat in Mutt, buckled in with his screens up, hands moving by rote, Chuck sank deeper, chasing that tension.

Yes, Mike kept winning… so far. But skill wasn't enough when you kept fighting, day after day, battle after battle. That wary note was the constant subconscious awareness that his luck could run out any day, that he always had to be on guard, and look out for his friends, and be a good leader, had to be the strongest and fastest and best--

Chuck surfaced, blinking hard. Too deep, that was too far down. His mind felt strange, shocky and lagging.

Was that real? Was that uncertainty actually lurking at the back of Mike’s mind, or--maybe Chuck only _thought_ he was psychic when he was really just having a weird trip from the spores?

He licked his lips, thinking about it, and felt an odd little flicker, a quiet jolt from Mike with a sudden awareness of Chuck’s lips, pink and shining. With it came an involuntary urge to reach out and run a thumb over Chuck’s lower lip, push inside his mouth--Mike shoved the desire down almost as soon as it appeared, an automatic reaction that felt almost casual, like this was somehow routine.

There was no way that could be routine, though. Mike definitely didn't spend a lot of time thinking about Chuck’s lips, that wouldn't make any sense.

Chuck tapped a few things on one screen for show and bit his lip, just… testing. Mike’s attention shifted onto him again, but when Chuck glanced sideways, his eyes were on the road. Like he was used to tracking Chuck and doing other stuff at the same time. Like the flicker of want going through Mike was _normal_.

It occurred to Chuck that if he was a good person, he would've stopped spying on his best friend's mind as soon as he realized he was doing it. He definitely wouldn't be using his freaky new abilities to study how the guy felt about him, no matter how startling the answer looked.

Chuck had never had much problem being slightly morally ambiguous. He'd tell Mike sooner or later, but he'd feel pretty silly if he told him and then the psychic thing was gone in another ten minutes or something. It had to be temporary, or fighting the Terras would've become pretty much impossible by now; they'd exploit the hell out of an edge like that if it was a real option.

Besides, how the hell was he supposed to not investigate when it looked like Mike might somehow be _attracted_ to him? Like, why would the guy not have said something?

Chuck nibbled his lip again, let it go, and rubbed his thumb over it, tugging it down a little. He would've assumed that couldn't look very good, was the opposite of sexy, but going by the way Mike’s attention abruptly riveted on him, hot and intent, Chuck’s judgment wasn't much help here.

 _Oh god_ , Mike was thinking, _okay, this is fine. Why is he doing that. No, it's fine! He's straight, he's straight, there's no point thinking about it. It's fine, I can… ignore it._

Instantly Chuck was filled with the desire to be unignorable. Which was a little weird, honestly, because it wasn't like he'd actually ever thought about Mike that way. Mike was a good-looking guy, yeah, but Chuck had known him since they were little kids. Whether or not Chuck was straight, (definitely not; he wasn't sure if ‘opportunistic’ was a sexuality, but if it was that was Chuck), thinking about having sex with Mike was really... different. Weird. Not, actually, a bad thought at all, he would probably be fun in bed, now that Chuck thought about it. Just strange. New.

Sighing like he was trying to figure out a coding issue, Chuck started typing, curling the tip of his tongue up onto his upper lip.

 _Oh GOD_ , Mike went, with a jolt of heat, and then--oh wow, okay, now he was thinking about kissing Chuck. Like, kissing him into a wall, pinning him there. The length of Chuck’s skinny body pressed against his.

And the skinniness was a _good_ thing, to Mike, Chuck’s long, bony frame was somehow sexy instead of a reason for scorn or pity or amusement. It absolutely did not make sense, but here in Mike’s head there was no way to doubt what Chuck was seeing. Mike thought he was _hot_.

Holy crap, Mike wanted to suck on his fingers, okay, _wow!_ That was. Unexpected. And distracting. Mike thought Chuck’s hands were sexy, too, apparently.

“Hey, buddy, you okay?” It was almost surreal, how normal Mike sounded when Chuck could feel/hear/whatever--could _know_ exactly how distracted and turned on he was. Which brought up another issue, actually.

According to the inside of his head, Mike felt about Chuck like Chuck used to feel about Claire a while back when he’d thought there was some chance of her changing her mind. Mike and Chuck spent all their time together, and not only had Mike never done anything as dumb as the way Chuck tripped over himself around Claire, he'd never even been weird. They hugged all the time, and Mike had never even held on too long, much less let his hands stray out of friend-appropriate regions. It would've been so easy to take advantage of their closeness to get some of what Mike wanted, and he hadn't tried once.

That was honestly impressive, in a sweet kind of way. Mike had been so careful to never make Chuck uncomfortable like that. 

“Buddy?”

Crap, Chuck forgot to answer. “Huh?” he said, glancing up from his screen like he was so immersed he missed it.

“Everything okay?” Mike was smiling a little, but that little thread of concern was back now, and louder. _Hope he's okay, that Terra jerk better not have done anything to him. He hasn't screamed at all since the junkyard and I know he hates this road…_

“Fine!” Chuck said hastily, and bit his lip with nerves, forgetting about the extra effect that had until Mike’s eyes flickered to his mouth and away again. “I--I just… There were these mushrooms back there,” he admitted, “and the spores--I feel--different.”

Alarm spiked up, joined by steady focus as Mike said, “Different how?” It almost drowned out the little thought running underneath that said _(What if it's like those flowers Texas was talking about that get you all hot and eager for it)._

Chuck froze for a second, chewing on his lip, and then gave in to wicked inspiration. “Just kind of… hot. Y’know. Is it warm in here?”

He probably wouldn't have noticed Mike locking up if he wasn't in his head, where the only coherent thought for a long few seconds was _Oh my GOD_.

“Hadn't really noticed,” Mike said, a moment late but remarkably calmly. “That's all, no weird hallucinations or anything, just hot?”

For a brief second, Chuck considered whether this whole thing could be a hallucination. Bizarre as it was, though, he didn't think it was quite weird enough.

Although watching Mike’s brain go careening down the ‘Chuck high on sex pollen’ track was pretty hypnotic. Mike kept trying to stop himself, but the thoughts kept popping up--Chuck going all flushed and breathing hard and--touching himself, okay, that was a turn-on for Mike? Telling Mike to stop the car, climbing into his lap, grinding on him, desperate, coming undone at his touch. Or dragging him out of the car, bending him over the hood and--fuck, _seriously?!_ He'd want _Chuck_ to-- _wow_ , okay. 

Okay! Okay, so apparently Chuck wouldn't have guessed what Mike was into at all. Pretty much any of it, holy crap.

He shifted a little in his seat like he was uncomfortable, like his pants were too tight, which, actually, now that he'd been watching Mike’s libido running away with him, wasn't much of a stretch. “Yeah,” he said, much too late. “Just… just hot. And kinda distracted, I guess.”

 _Oh god oh god okay, don't think about it_ , Mike ordered himself. “Okay,” he said. “Just keep an eye on it, let me know if anything changes.” _If that's what's going on he can just--take some alone time until it wears off. I'll just have to steer him clear of everyone, get him into his room safe. It'll be okay, he'll be okay._

Slowly he slid back into overheated speculation without really noticing. Fascinated, Chuck watched half-verbalized thoughts flicker past, an image of Chuck, flushed and disheveled, pulling Mike into his room and locking the door behind him, _What if he insisted. Has he ever had sex before? I'd have to be careful, gentle… But what if it was like_ \--

The words gave way to a piece of a scene that Chuck realized was a memory. A long, dark room, many bodies quietly breathing. Hard hands holding him down on his bunk, a knee shoving his legs open. The other cadet pushing into him, eager and rough, and the hiss in his ear, “You keep your mouth shut about this,” met with Mike’s whisper, “Same to you, come on already!”

The scene shifted, the hands softening, the movement of the body over his gentling, and the quiet voice in his ear was Chuck’s now, “I got you, Mikey, come on, bro, move for me.”

 _He'd be nice about it, Chuckles isn't a jerk_ , Mike was thinking, almost wistful. _It'd be good, I know it would_ \--

A startled jolt of guilt and self-directed annoyance and the flow of want and overheated thoughts stopped abruptly. _Stop it, can't think about him like this, it's messed up. He can take care of himself, he doesn't need help._

 _(But what if he did)--NO_. _Cut it out. He'd be grossed out if he knew you thought about stuff like this_.

And under that, almost unconscious knowledge more than thought, _(Can't lose him, can't lose Chuck, that'd be the worst, might as well roll over and give up)_.

Chuck swallowed hard, feeling unbalanced and unmoored from the intensity of the tangle in Mike’s head, want and fear and determination and guilt. He'd known Mike cared about him, liked having him as a friend, of course he'd known that, but. He hadn't realized it went so deep or was so serious.

Holy shit, Mike was... pretty much in _love_ with him?

It did something to Chuck’s chest, tugged something open that ached and exulted and trembled. The sensation was terrifyingly vulnerable, tender and new, and Chuck was breathing fast in the passenger's seat, blind to the road blurring past outside, distracted from Mike to focus on his own tangle of stupid, scared, excited feelings.

Just because Mike was in love with him didn't mean he needed to be in love with Mike, he pointed out to himself. ... _Why not try it, though?_ came the response. Mike was awesome and fun and his best friend, Chuck already loved him, it was just a tiny step to being _in_ love. And he didn't have to worry about being rejected, not with everything he knew now.

Breathing out shakily, he looked over at Mike. Hands sure on the steering wheel, mouth slightly pinched, Mike was controlling himself now, slapping down his thoughts every time they veered in a pornographic direction. He was mostly focused on getting home fast and thinking through what to say to the others without giving away details that were Chuck’s private business and nobody else's.

It was bizarre to have proof that Mike didn't just _act_ like a sweet, incredibly decent guy, he was exactly that all the way through. Chuck wasn't actually surprised, it was just weird to _know_.

Mike felt his gaze and glanced over and Chuck caught an image of himself through Mike's eyes, flushed and panting. “Still doing okay, buddy?” Mike asked.

Chuck wasn't really sure what to say. The sex pollen ruse seemed kind of mean suddenly, even if it made a great excuse to have sex with Mike with no strings attached. That was pointless when he'd just put the strings on himself, wasn't it--his heart in exchange for Mike’s, whether or not Mike knew it.

“Yeah,” he said, pulling back his bangs to look at Mike directly--and stopped with his mouth open when Mike’s internal response to the eye contact was a little adrenaline spike, a jolt of startled delight.

Mike gave him a smile, thinking how pretty Chuck’s eyes were, and said, “Yeah? You, uh, feeling better?”

Chuck blinked at him and closed his mouth. Holy crap, Mike was _such a dork_. He got that excited about seeing Chuck’s eyes? What a weirdo. (What a sweetheart, god, Chuck’s chest was all warm and achy.)

“I, I just--I've got this,” Chuck said. “I'm h-handling it.” Oh god, why did he put it that way, Mike’s mind went straight into the gutter. It was _amazing_ even if Chuck’s face was burning. “I've got it under control,” he added, squeaking slightly.

“Yeah?” Mike said, cautious relief warring with a disappointment that he tried to stomp on as soon as he noticed it. _Stop it, that's so gross. Like I'd want him to be forced into anything, geez._ Guilt and shame drowned the disappointment out, and Chuck did his best not to wince, but _wow_ , Mikey, way to overreact.

“Yeah,” he answered. “You can stop worrying, bro.”

“Haha, yeah, okay,” Mike said, affection welling up in him. _Chuck is so cute when he's stoic and determined. Or complaining about stuff. Or--all the time, really. The no-screaming thing is kinda weird, though._

Chuck bit back a smile, because it was just incredibly endearing that Mike thought of Chuck’s shrieking as a sign that everything was normal, with no hint of considering him pathetic or cowardly or--any of the things Chuck called himself on a regular basis. Mike didn't even think that stuff, despite the constant proof that scorn would be a perfectly rational response.

Mike tried to corral his thoughts back onto errands, the Cablers and what they needed, and for a while only the occasional stray breath of a thought showed that he couldn't put the sex pollen quite out of his mind. Chuck drifted through his thoughts, studying the way he worked, what was conscious and what wasn't.

Being completely immersed in his best friend's thoughts and feelings had serious upsides, because he could focus on Mike’s emotions instead of his own, and man was there a difference. Mike wasn't worried about anything except Chuck right now.

Chuck had always wondered what it would be like to be flying along these ridiculous roads, doing things like jumping gaps and driving off the edge onto a road below, and not be scared. He'd been aware that Mike probably didn't have the constant calculations going in the back of his head to estimate how much would be left of them if any of a hundred tiny things went wrong, but it was so much more than that. Mike _loved_ driving, loved going fast, loved the adrenaline rush, and had absolute confidence that he could make Mutt do pretty much anything he needed to. He could feel Mutt like an extension of his own body, like he was just moving a larger self along these roads instead of piloting a big, dangerous machine.

Approaching a gap in the road, Mike hit the gas knowing exactly how much was needed to make it over, feeling the rightness of speed and trajectory with his whole body as they left the ground. That was dizzying enough, but the surge of glee and the adrenaline spike was intoxicating. Chuck had to choke down giddy laughter, leaning into the embrace of his padded seat. How weird, to react to adrenaline like a good thing instead of _danger bad wrong_.

He slid a little deeper and realized he could feel the steering wheel under Mike’s hands, could see the road ahead from a perspective several feet to the left of his own. When he sighed, he heard it through two sets of ears at once.

Mike’s shoulders were a little tight, nothing like Chuck’s usually were, but as Chuck explored further he found one knee aching where one of the Terras had kicked it. Mike hadn't said anything, of course, barely even acknowledged it himself since it wasn't bad enough to make him limp. Fucking stoic ex-cadets.

Chuck had been kind of flitting around, testing one area and then another, and now he tried to feel Mike’s whole body at once. Mike's tactile sense was almost muted compared to Chuck’s own, his skin seeming thicker, less sensitive. The pain in his knee was easy for him to ignore. His hearing was fine, and Chuck was pretty sure his eyesight was okay even if it wasn't as clear as Chuck’s in dark areas--no auto-contrast or infrared, of course, because Mike wasn't modded up like Chuck was, and that was _fine_ , Chuck wasn't at all unnerved by the proof that Mike couldn't see as well as him in the darker areas of these roads, everything was _fine_. 

...It hadn't killed them yet, anyway.

Chuck watched the road through Mike’s eyes for a moment, and then Mike glanced over at him, just checking, and there was this bizarre disembodied sensation in looking at himself from the outside. And _wow_ he looked _really different_ this way. Or--he looked the same, but Mike’s feelings about what he saw were so different from Chuck’s that it was like looking at someone else entirely.

Mike looked at his hands and saw _pale freckled sexy clever_ , thought his long skinny neck was attractive and wanted to leave hickies _all over it_ , holy crap. He loved Chuck’s hair except for the way it hid his eyes, which seemed like a cruel tease to Mike. He didn't seem to notice all the places Chuck was gangly and awkward and too bony, didn't think Chuck’s chest was too skinny or his shoulders too narrow.

He didn't look at Chuck and think _pathetic, weirdo bot-boy, kind of a failure honestly_ , it was more like _genius best friend, hot and fun and always got my back, god he's so smart_.

Chuck swallowed hard and didn't realize he was chewing on his lip until the reaction went through Mike. Even as he looked back at the road, the shiver of want slid down Mike’s spine, going straight to his dick. Chuck barely held back a moan as Mike’s mind fixed on his mouth again, thoughts of kissing him, pushing fingers between his lips, a brief image of Chuck on his knees, flushed lips wrapped around Mike’s dick, making soft muffled noises as Mike stroked his hair, brushed back his bangs to see his eyes--fuck, that was--god _damn_.

Even Mike’s fantasies were sweet. Really hot, and sweet. At least, when it came to him doing things to Chuck. The thoughts of Chuck doing things to him were harsher, and Chuck couldn't tell if it was because that was what Mike liked, or because it was what he was used to, judging by the memory of that cadet in the barracks at night.

Mike’s concentration on business was gone now. He'd manage to get his mind off sex with Chuck for a few minutes and it would veer back a moment later. Chuck could feel the heat sliding through him, the way Mike’s pants were getting tight, and it was all he could do not to moan out loud in response, because everything Mike felt, so did Chuck, and Chuck’s body reacted just as easily to Mike’s arousal as if it was his own. Which, uh, it also was, because what, was he supposed to watch Mike thinking about all the stuff he wanted to do with Chuck and not get turned on? He could feel Mike getting hard, how was he supposed to ignore that?!

The whole thing had him squirming in his seat and breathing hard, just like those spores actually had been some kind of aphrodisiac, which Mike couldn't exactly fail to notice, which just made him more distracted by Chuck’s condition. It was a wicked feedback loop. Mike thought about kissing Chuck and Chuck had to think about getting kissed. Mike thought about holding Chuck, running hands through his hair, and Chuck shivered and thought he'd kinda like being held.

It was weird to see Mike like a sexy guy instead of just _Mike_ , weird to shift the way Chuck looked at him. He glanced sideways at Mike, studying those solid shoulders, the strong hands on the wheel, the bulge in the front of his pants _oh_ _wow_ \--

There was a shock of _want hope dismay concern_ from Mike, and Chuck realized too late that Mike had caught him looking, saw his eyes through a gap in his bangs. Chuck’s face went hot and he stared rigidly out the windshield, unseeing, as Mike’s mind spun in circles, _He was staring at me again, oh man, what do I do?! Looks like maybe it's not as under control as he thought, crap. If he asks, can I go ahead and--no, he'd be mad later, he's not really interested, I can't. God, I wish I could just give him what he wants, I'd make it so good--_

And back he went into the flow of longing fantasies, tugging Chuck along for the ride. Distracting as this was, it took a while for Chuck to realize that there was an obvious way to derail it.

If he just told Mike the truth, Mike would stop thinking about Chuck being high on sex pollen, and then they could maybe actually have sex. ...Assuming Mike wasn't disturbed and betrayed by the fact that Chuck had been reading his mind this whole time and not told him, of course. Assuming that he didn't get mad, because this was honestly a pretty horrible invasion of privacy and breach of trust, and he'd have every right to be furious at Chuck for it. And the longer Chuck went without saying anything, the worse a betrayal it was, especially when he'd gone so deep in Mike’s mind, seen so much.

...It was already too late, wasn't it. Mike was going to be mad, the question was only how much.

Maybe if he kissed Mike before telling him, got him all distracted with the real version of his fantasies, maybe then it'd be okay. Maybe Mike would forgive him if he sucked him off.

Or maybe he'd only ruin his longest, closest friendship and he needed to keep this to himself.

That realization mostly took care of the issue with Chuck’s pants being too tight, even if Mike’s still were and Chuck was still aware of it. 

He was so deep in his thoughts--and Mike’s--that his first sign they were home was Mike’s swell of _satisfaction comfort relief_. Chuck looked out through his eyes as Mutt pulled into the garage, seeing Dutch working on something with ROTH at his workbench, Texas hanging out nearby, probably bothering him about lasers. Mike’s feelings looking at the other two Burners were a lot less complicated than Chuck’s, no shades of _probably thinks I'm a wimp_ or _he hates me, I know it_. Mike looked at Dutch and saw _smart cool dependable awesome friend_ , while Texas was _funny strong energetic, lots of fun, great guy_.

Mike turned Mutt into her usual spot and parked, and Chuck realized hazily that he should probably not be feeling the cool hard chrome of the little skull under his fingers as Mike unscrewed it from the gearshift. He tried to pull back into his own head, and found that Mike’s thoughts weren't the only ones he was hearing now.

_\--Think it needs another relay, two isn't gonna be enough to carry the load…_

He recognized that one as Dutch, after a moment, and the metallic-tasting stream of not-quite computer commands murmuring quietly to itself had to be ROTH. Which meant that the wordless flow of mingled enthusiasm and uncertainty was _Texas_. Before now, Chuck would've assumed that Texas had never been uncertain in his life. What the heck was he even worried about--

“Chuckles? You okay, buddy?”

Chuck blinked over at Mike, whose smile looked a little concerned as he hovered half out of the car. _Geez, he's so out of it, this stuff is really messing with his head_.

Choking back a giggle because _yeah,_ accurate, Chuck managed a nod. “Fine!” he said, only squeaking slightly, and scrambled out.

“Hey, they're back!” Texas said. “Hey Tiny, hey Skinny!”

Chuck almost tripped, the surge of cheerful eagerness catching him off guard, a feeling like _friends! Yeah friends!_ It was no surprise that Texas liked Mike a lot, but that the welcoming feeling extended to Chuck was so different from what he'd expected that he almost couldn't take it in. Almost involuntarily, he looked closer to see where the other stuff was, the scorn and contempt and dislike that Texas had to have for him, and--okay, much deeper there was a kind of sullen bewilderment, a dismissal mingled with unease and--jealousy? How could Texas possibly be jealous of _Chuck?_

That didn't make any sense. He kept looking for the other stuff, scorn or dislike or something, and the closest he found was annoyance mixed with more of that unease, there was nothing worse, even when Chuck was deep enough to look out through Texas’s eyes--

Dutch turned his head to call a greeting, and ROTH beeped a hello, and Chuck was in four heads at once, abruptly looking out through a video feed and three pairs of eyes at himself, and one with a view of Dutch and Texas--that must be his--and he couldn't tell where his body was, how to move it. Dutch and Texas wheeled sideways, the whole place tilting along with them, and he couldn't figure out why until Mike’s arm caught him across the chest along with a spike of alarm and concern from Mike, Dutch, and ROTH, and puzzlement from Texas. Oh, Chuck had tried to fall over, great, good job acting normal.

 _Crap, that's no good_ , Mike was thinking, urgent and anxious. _Gotta get him up to his room, but if he can't walk--should I carry him? Avoid touching him? Can't give him away, can't let the guys know, (they wouldn't do anything but what if he wanted them to--)_

Puzzlement was easing into concern over by the workbench, Dutch--no, Texas, Texas was wordlessly wondering what was up with--that tangle of feelings and concepts was Chuck, to him, _brainy nerdy skinny nice hair jumpy Burner (way too smart why's he gotta make Texas feel dumb)_.

...Oh. Was _that_ what the jealousy and unease and stuff was about. Holy crap, Chuck had had no idea.

ROTH beeped a question and Dutch said to Mike, “He okay? What happened, man?” Alarm and concern from Dutch, _Oh no is he sick? Hurt? He's gotta be okay, we gotta help Mike take care of him_ , and running underneath it his own sense of Chuck, _coding buddy, guy I look up to, smart strategist, original Burner, vital to the team._

Meanwhile ROTH was broadcasting concern and readiness, prepared to go fetch first aid supplies if necessary. Chuck thought dizzily that Dutch was going to be vindicated to hear objective proof that ROTH was a very caring bot.

Mike finished helping Chuck back onto his feet, holding him steady with an arm around his back. “We ran into some Terra guys, Chuck said he got hit with some spores. I think maybe he just needs to lie down a while.”

A flare of indignation and anger came from Texas and renewed alarm mingled with quieter anger from Dutch. Texas wanted to make those weird leafy guys pay for hurting his little squeaky buddy, dwelling vengefully on images of jumping Terras, taking them by surprise and punching them a lot. 

“You feel sick, man?” Dutch asked. “Need anything?”

The ongoing anxious concern from him ran alongside a sudden spike of protective alarm and uncertainty from Mike, _No, he doesn't need it, he just thinks he does, we don't get to help_.

It was really hard to put words together and say them when there were so many other words going on in multiple people's heads. The longer it took, the more the concern all around grew, too.

“‘M fine,” Chuck finally managed. “Just. Weird. Gotta… go. Lie down some.”

The concern lessened very slightly, an undercurrent of uncertain relief coming from Dutch, _Doesn't look like he's hurting, just dizzy I guess? He looks so out of it, though, and doesn't sound so good…_

Chuck caught another glimpse of himself through Dutch’s eyes and oh _geez_ , Chuck’s eyes weren't even focusing, he was staring blankly at a patch of garage floor, face hazy and vacant. No wonder everyone was worried, he had to pull it together. It was hard, though, with so much distracting him from his own mind, his own body.

“Oh, Dutch,” Mike said, fishing in his pocket with the hand that wasn't holding Chuck up, “before we go, this is for you. Can you--?”

“Aww, you guys got me a present?” Dutch said, striding over, and then his face changed as he saw the converter Mike was holding up. The shock and delight that went through him as he took it reverently were deeply satisfying. “Holy crap, where'd you guys _find_ this?”

Mike grinned at him. “Chuck spotted it in a Terra junkyard, so we went in and got it.” The warmth and satisfaction in Mike died down some at the reminder of the result, Chuck stumbling and too quiet and distracted. “Anyway, we gotta--”

“Yeah, for sure,” Dutch said, nodding, holding the converter to his chest like something precious and fragile. “Need any help?”

“Nah, we're good,” Mike said with a confident smile, thinking _I can carry him if I have to, the fewer people touching him the better (mine, my friend, I can take care of him myself)._

Chuck focused on setting one foot in front of the next, which was tricky when he had trouble remembering which were his legs. Mike wasn't quite carrying him, but he was taking care of most of the balancing, which was good because Chuck had enough problems.

The world spun around him as Dutch turned back to his workbench, spun again as he called over his shoulder, “Rest up and feel better, okay, man?”

Chuck found his own mouth, threw an easy, automatic syllable out, “‘Kay.”

Dutch’s concern strengthened again, but Mike was helping Chuck out of the garage, and the more distance he got from the others, the quieter their thoughts and feelings became. Mike’s did not.

 _If he wanted Dutch or Texas he would've said something, right?_ he was thinking, over images he was trying to suppress of Chuck making out with one or both of them. _Or maybe not, maybe he knows it'd be a really bad idea to start something when he's like this. It'd be really cute and hot, but so messed up when he came down._

_(And anyway, they don't like him as much as I do, so really it should be me who gets to)--if he wanted me! Which he doesn't, and anyway I wouldn't because I'm not gonna take advantage._

Chuck was pretty sure being able to listen to someone's thoughts should mean you found out about their petty, mean side. Just his luck that Mike didn't seem to have one.

The farther they got from the garage, the easier it was to control his body as the glimpses of what Dutch and Texas were seeing faded out and stopped confusing him. Mike noticed him walking normally, not leaning on Mike so much, and hoped it meant he was feeling better.

Jacob was around somewhere, Chuck could just feel another mind at the edge of his awareness, but as he and Mike got to Chuck’s room everyone except Mike faded out, much to Chuck’s relief. Mike helped him into the room and Chuck was distracted by a sudden surge of _contentment pleasure sheepish thrill_ from Mike over… the way the room smelled? Chuck sniffed surreptitiously himself, but there was no overpowering odor of unwashed socks or anything, it just smelled like his room.

Stepping over to his bed, Chuck sat down, and there was a hot jolt in the pit of Mike’s stomach at how tempting his bed looked. Chuck sucked in a breath through his teeth, caught by surprise, and couldn't help thinking that he could just pull Mike down right now, kiss him until he stopped worrying about taking advantage--except Chuck would be the one taking advantage at that point, and Mike would find out.

Chuck couldn't hide this forever. Mike was going to find out eventually, and if Chuck didn't do what he could to fix it before then, Mike would be pissed. He might stop trusting Chuck entirely, might pull away even if he didn't end the friendship, and that couldn't happen.

Mike put a cautious hand on Chuck’s shoulder, thinking how tense and vulnerable Chuck seemed, flushed and oddly distant. “You gonna be okay, buddy?”

“Yeah, I, I'll be fine,” Chuck said helplessly. He had to tell him, but how was he supposed to do that? _Hey by the way I've been reading your mind for the last twenty minutes, picking up on all your secrets and what you want to do with my mouth, hope you don't mind!_

“Okay,” Mike said, patting him. “Call me if you need anything, okay, I'll be in my room for a while.”

In his room blowing off a little steam, oh _wow_ okay. Chuck was frozen contemplating that for a second, and then Mike started to step away and Chuck panicked. He had to tell him now no matter how bad it seemed, it would only get worse if he waited--

“No, wait!” he said, grabbing Mike’s wrist, and his hand landed half on the end of Mike’s jacket sleeve and half on bare skin, and something-- _shifted_.

 _What_... Mike thought, and Chuck looked to see what was puzzling him and found a strange twice-removed echo of Chuck’s own panic and determination and confused arousal, his own thoughts, _gotta tell him but what if he hates me but waiting’ll be worse_ \--

 _Oh shit_ , Chuck thought, blank and terrified, and jerked his hand back. The echoed thoughts stopped.

Mike was staring at him, confusion shifting slowly into startled comprehension. _We touched_ , he thought, _and he freaked out, ‘_ he _can hear_ me _now’, so he--he's been… listening to me think_. There was a tinge of horrified embarrassment growing as he remembered what he'd been thinking about the last twenty minutes. _He's been in my_ head _, he knew--_

“I'm sorry!” Chuck gasped. “I didn't mean--I got distracted and--” he cut off with a yelp as Mike reached out and grabbed his hand and that weird echo effect started up again. _Oh that's not_ fair _!_ Chuck thought involuntarily.

 _Seriously, Chuckles?_ Mike responded, mental voice exasperated. _You've been eavesdropping for--ohh since the junkyard of course, it was never sex pollen at all, god, why did I assume--_

The question brought a quick flash of memory from Chuck of the moment Mike wondered about sex pollen, the moment Chuck decided to run with it because why not, fun prank--He tried to bury the memory as soon as it popped up, but Mike followed it, outrage and amusement mingling.

 _You dick_ , Mike thought, _you pulled that on me and_ this _is unfair? I spent oh god like the entire ride home thinking--things, oh god, I knew I should’ve tried harder to keep it under control--_

Chuck absolutely didn't mean to flash on the wave of heat that had gone through him when he'd realized Mike thought he was sexy, but it just kind of happened.

 _...You liked it_. Mike was staring at him, poleaxed. His mind ran on in shock, _He's not grossed out not leaving not saying you sicko what's wrong with you, he liked it, like--he's not straight?_

Chuck sighed. _Really, really not straight_ , he admitted, memories slipping out briefly of Thurman and mutual favors exchanged. He didn't mean to think about that, but it turned out that even when you knew someone was listening to your thoughts, they were still really hard to control.

Startlement swept through Mike with a tinge of something else he buried too quickly for Chuck to identify. _Thurman? Holy crap Chuck’s not a virgin?!_

“Hah!” Chuck said out loud, wryly vindicated that Mike thought he was the kind of sad hopeless nerd who never got anywhere with anyone, just like Chuck had expected he would.

Sheepish chagrin from Mike, _Aw buddy no, not what I meant, not sad or hopeless, just--(really bad with girls),_ he tried not to think and thought anyway. _But you--you liked me thinking about you like that? (Shouldn't have, god I'm such a bad friend--)_

Chuck couldn't control the surge of disbelief and heat, the _Are you kidding?! Did I_ like _knowing you (someone amazing and heroic and awesome like you) could be attracted to (bony awkward wimpy) me? Gee, what a weird thing to be turned on by!_

 _Sexy tall awesome brilliant you_ , Mike corrected firmly, and the flood of images of Chuck’s clever hands, beautiful smile, sexy-long legs, pretty hair and so on had Chuck’s face flaming hot in seconds. 

Mike smiled at him, warm and affectionate as Chuck tried to hide in his free hand, which was pointless when Mike was in his head. “Haha, yeah,” Mike said, _pointless but not like I mind it's really cute. You're really cute._

Then, slowly, _So if you're not on sex pollen… but you liked that, you're into it (and he's not a virgin, it's not taking advantage it's okay)…_

 _Well, kind of a virgin_ , Chuck couldn't help thinking, arguing like an idiot even as a wave of heat swept through him, _handjobs don't really count_.

Mike grinned at him, and the hot prickle of want curling up his spine made Chuck’s mouth go dry. “So,” Mike said, mind thrumming with intention and anticipation, _I'll be careful_ and _Too fast maybe? Don't want to push, but if we both want it_ \--

Chuck swallowed hard, made a decision that drew Mike's grin wider in delight, and pulled his hand away firmly. “You already have all the advantages,” he pointed out when Mike huffed playfully at him. “You don't get to eavesdrop too.”

“What advantages?” Mike said, laughing. “You're the one who's been listening to my brain this whole time, I think you obviously came out on top here.”

Chuck stood up, grabbed Mike by the front of his jacket, and pushed him backwards, steering him into the wall with a thump that made his eyes widen. “No,” Chuck said, voice cracking stupidly with nerves, “I'm not on top yet.”

The rush of heat that sent through Mike made Chuck catch his breath. For a moment Mike’s mind went nonverbal, a throb of shock and want and hope, images of Chuck pushing him down and holding him there, taking what he wanted and patting Mike’s hair afterwards. Chuck licked his lips, storing it all as useful data. Leaning in close, he said in Mike’s ear, “You do feel really nice inside. I like being in you.”

Mike half-laughed and half-moaned at that, breathless and shocked, mind stuttering with blank amazement. “Oh my _god_ , Chuckles.”

Chuck grinned a little, nibbling his lip, following the hot thread of want deeper into Mike's thoughts. He'd already seen a lot of what Mike wanted, what he liked, while he was fantasizing about Chuck earlier, and now he took one last look before planting a hand in the middle of Mike’s chest and pushing just enough to pin him to the wall. Mike’s pupils flared wide and dark.

“You know what I could do to you, Mikey?” Chuck murmured. “It's all here in your head, everything I need to know to take you apart, make you scream for me.”

He'd never heard Mike make that noise before, a little hitching sound at the back of his throat that slammed through Chuck in a wave of heat. “ _Chuck_ ,” Mike gasped, “oh my god, dude, that's… Nnh, kinda unfair, don't you think?” He lifted a hand to catch Chuck’s free wrist, thinking _even things out some_ , and Chuck yanked his hand out of reach.

“Hands _down_ ,” he snapped before he could even think about it, and Mike jerked all over, breath stuttering, and slapped his palms flat against the wall beside him, eyes round.

Normally Chuck would be flipping out right now, asking himself what the fuck that was, what he thought he was doing, but that didn't get very far when he was wrapped in Mike’s thoughts, in the overwhelming rush of heat and exhilaration and desire to please, to do well, to be good. There was no way to mistake that as anything but a highly positive response.

Granted it was weird to be taking cues from Mike’s mind at a level where Chuck was just _acting_ on them without thinking first, that was unnerving. Maybe he could pull back a little, enough to get the right answers but not treat them like reflexes. Might take a little practice.

Right now the next move was clear, though. “Good,” Chuck said. “Good job, yeah. Keep your hands there until I say, okay?”

“Yessir,” Mike said reflexively, voice husky, and then looked dismayed to match his mental _oh crap, no_. “I mean--”

“No, shh, it's okay, bro, don't worry about it,” Chuck said, and ran a hand into Mike’s hair to stroke it soothingly, feeling the swell of _warmth comfort contentment_ as Mike’s eyelashes fluttered. “You're taking orders, that could be confusing. I get it if you slip up. Probably means I'm doing it right.”

 _Or it means I'm an idiot who can't keep my head straight_ , Mike thought involuntarily, and Chuck blinked at him.

“Mm, no, I don't think so, dude. If I do my job, you won't be thinking at all. Just feeling.” He leaned in and gently kissed Mike, one hand still in his hair, the other pressed against his chest. This time as skin touched skin, most of what he got echoed back from himself was focused intent, determination, fascination.

 _God you're hot_ , was Mike's topmost thought, with _can't believe he's not freaked out/bothered/annoyed about that_ running quietly underneath.

 _Oh right_ , Chuck answered that one sarcastically, _I'm in the middle of hot psychic makeouts and I'm going to get distracted by a minor verbal holdover? I've got better things to focus on._ Half to make his point and half to distract himself from how bizarrely attractive Mike thought he was, he pictured pinning Mike’s wrists above his head and getting a hand down his pants, teasing him until he begged.

Mike whimpered into the deepening kiss and his hips twitched. His hands pulled away from the wall, then hastily pressed back against it, but he wanted to wrap his arms around Chuck, brush back his bangs, hold him (cling to him, keep him) as they kissed.

 _Aww, Mikey, it's okay,_ Chuck told him without breaking the kiss, stroking his hair again, then cupping his cheek. _I'm not gonna… (walk out on you/ditch you/laugh at you) be a dick, promise_.

The simultaneous surge of hope and fear was unexpected, and took Chuck a moment to parse. _Of course not, Chuck’s not like that, he'll be nice_ came out louder, with _yeah but that doesn't mean he'll stay_ the darker undercurrent.

Shock pulled Chuck out of the kiss. He moved his hand from Mike’s face to his shoulder, breaking skin contact while he tried to get his head around that fear. ‘Stay’ meant together with Mike in this new way, in a relationship. _Wanted him so long_ , the thought ran on, _and he's never been interested before, this is sudden and weird and he got hit with those spores and--what if it goes away?_

...Even after everything he'd seen for himself today in Mike’s head, Chuck still wasn't used to thinking of Mike as afraid of anything. If he considered the evidence that Mike had apparently been _pining_ over Chuck for a while, it made sense that he'd be worried about this, but--it was still deeply weird to think about.

The shifting tone of Mike's unease pulled him out of his thoughts. _Made it weird, he's gonna change his mind, god I'm such an idiot demanding more instead of being happy with what I've got--_

“Mike, no, stop it,” Chuck said, reaching to stroke a thumb over his cheekbone but stopping just before he made contact. Which was stupid, because it made a spike of unhappy anxiety flare up in Mike.

Chuck bit his lip in annoyance at himself. _Way to go, genius, this psychic thing’s really making a difference for how hopeless you are at interpersonal shit_.

“Mike,” he said, and completed the touch. _Look_ , he said, and focused on the ball of tender warmth in his chest that--okay, that he'd been kind of trying to forget about because the feeling of vulnerability was terrifying, but. He looked at Mike’s face, the anxious dark eyes, and let himself feel how deeply he cared for this guy, how far he'd go to stay by his side. The sweet, exhilarating warmth flooded through him until his chest ached.

Mike's mouth opened, his eyes widened, and for a moment he was one clear note of amazement and awe, everything else wiped away. Breathless, Chuck felt him slide into delight, then flicker between uncertainty and joy, wanting to believe but unsure it was safe. Then his attention shifted, and Mike felt his way deeper into Chuck’s thoughts, looking for answers. One hand on Mike’s cheek, Chuck let him investigate, ignoring his own anxiety about what Mike might see while he was in there. 

After a minute, startlement rang through Mike. _Oh. This is new, like,_ today _. ...You_ decided _to fall in love with me?!_

 _...Sort of?_ Chuck said uncomfortably. _Not really? It just kinda happened when I realized you felt (warmth deep care affection) that way about me (didn't have that far to go/only real difference is sex)_.

There was a thoughtful pause, which made Chuck nervous enough that he pulled his hand away, leaving their only contact his other hand holding Mike to the wall.

A flash of resigned amusement came from Mike, _Totally not fair, dude, hiding like that (but I get it I know it's okay)._ Then the thoughts flickering too fast and nonverbally for Chuck to follow reached a conclusion and determination rose up strong in Mike.

Chuck swallowed.

 _No, buddy, don't be nervous it's okay_ , Mike said hastily. Right, no skin contact didn't matter when Chuck was no good at hiding his emotions in the first place.

 _Come on,_ Mike added, _aren't you in my head/shouldn't you already know everything I'm thinking?_

“Not really that simple, Mikey,” Chuck grumbled, and reached up to wind his fingers in Mike’s hair and tug hard enough to sting. Mike gasped and groaned aloud, shock and arousal briefly wiping everything else from his mind.

Then he rallied--and that was _so hot_ from the inside of his mind, the way he dragged himself doggedly back on track even as Chuck pulled again, jerking Mike’s head to one side to breathe on his neck, making hot anticipation shiver through him. He kept going blank for a second, wanting and hungry, and then every time, he’d force himself back to the thought he was trying to formulate--which was--

“Prove yourself?” Chuck said in startlement, relaxing his grip on Mike’s hair. “What the heck do you need to prove, dude?”

Mike gasped for breath, trying to string the words together, but Chuck was already listening to the fragments of his anxious thoughts. _(Take the chance/gotta show him/prove it's good I'm good he'll like it/won't regret it/maybe he'll stay--)_

“Mikey,” Chuck murmured, “no, come on, bro--” He slid his hand down to Mike’s cheek, leaned in to press their foreheads together. _Already love you/already in this with you, not going anywhere, geez gimme a chance before you decide I'm gonna be a jerk, huh?_

Shock burst through Mike. _Dude no not what I meant!_

Chuck snorted. _Well whatever you meant, you don't have to prove anything/I already_ know _how amazing you are_ , he pointed out, and kissed him again. Mike sighed into it, still uncertain but starting to relax.

Watching the flux and shift of his feelings, Chuck enjoyed the kiss for a while before breaking it to pull Mike’s hair again, even rougher this time, trying to observe where the line was of hot vs too much. Still on the right side, judging by the wave of astonished heat slamming through Mike, but maybe close enough to stop pushing. Chuck leaned in and bit his neck hard, and Mike moaned out loud, his voice wavering.

The amazement that kept running through him alongside the surging want was actually kind of cute as well as funny, a wordless thrum of shock and admiration. He'd never imagined that Chuck could push him around like this, could be commanding during sex, and he was so impressed that the astonishment wasn't even insulting.

Along with the amazement was an intense desire for _more, yes, please, I can do it/meet expectations/follow orders (please I'll be good I swear)_ that made Chuck swallow and take a breath to cool down. O-ho-kay _wow_ that was… really unexpectedly hot. Not just the feeling of power he had right now, to be able to get these reactions out of Mike, but that Mike _liked_ it this way, was eager to give him that power.

Eager to submit to him.

 _God_.

Breathing hard, Chuck stepped back, letting go of Mike's hair, pulling away the hand holding him against the wall. The wash of disappointment was cute, and Mike stayed right where he was, hands pressed to the wall like Chuck had told him, chest heaving as he waited for what came next.

Meanwhile, Chuck had to decide just that. There were so many possibilities here in Mike’s mind, unconscious hopes and desires tangled up with memory and fantasy… It wasn't quite as simple as scrolling through them, but Chuck had plenty of ideas to pick from, and some of them were so _hot_...

Having instant access to Mike’s thoughts and feelings meant Chuck didn't have to worry that if he took more than a few seconds Mike would get bored or annoyed. As soon as he started to worry he just checked, and _surprise_ , everything was still fine! Mike wasn't annoyed, he was waiting, _being_ _good_.

“Good,” Chuck said hoarsely. “Good job staying put.”

The shy smile matched the surge of warmth and pleasure that went through Mike, and it was intoxicating. Chuck took a deep breath and bit his lip, let it slowly slide free again as Mike’s attention fixated. Raising a hand, he rubbed one thoughtful finger over that lip, then slid the fingertip into his open mouth and licked.

Mike let out a sound a lot like a whine. “Oh my _god_ , Chuckles,” he groaned.

“What's wrong, Mikey?” Chuck said as innocently as he could manage. “You wish this was your dick instead?” God, his face was so hot just _saying_ that, but Mike’s knees almost buckled with the shock of want that went through him at the words, so it was worth it.

It was funny, too, because Mike couldn't decide, his mind flickering hungrily from Chuck on his knees, sucking Mike off with Mike’s hands gentle in his hair, to Mike on _his_ knees with Chuck alternating between stroking his hair and _okay wow_ fucking his mouth?! Holy shit. _Geez_. Maybe Mike’s predilections should stop being a shock at this point, since Chuck had a front-row view of the whole line-up of desires and fantasies, but he was having trouble adjusting.

“You know,” he said, a little absently as he considered what direction to go next, “you got kinda a funny double standard going there, bro. You want to be all gentle with me, but you want me to be really rough with you. Well, part of the time,” he added in fairness, because Mike had also loved Chuck stroking his hair and cupping his cheek while they kissed, it made him go all soft and warm and hopeful.

Mike twitched his shoulders in an awkward shrug, looking sheepish, but the feeling that came off him was stronger, edged with guilt. _(Not supposed to be this way/I'm so screwed up/can't change it_ … _)_ “Not _that_ rough,” he muttered, with an involuntary memory flash of _bright-sharp-pain/fist against face/split lip throbbing_. “And I mean, you don't--buddy, you know you don't have--”

“Oh my god, dude,” Chuck said, grateful for the distraction from the memory of--had that been from when Mike got captured? Don't think about it-- “I _know_ I don't have to do anything I'm not comfortable with! That's not what I was saying. It's not like I have a problem, y'know, giving you orders and stuff, pushing you around. You don't want me to, like, hit you or hurt you or anything really hardcore like that, so we're fine.”

A spike of startlement from Mike distracted Chuck from what he was saying. _He doesn't think this is weird--doesn't sound like it's twisted/bad/wrong--_

Oh boy. Chuck rubbed a hand over his mouth, suddenly even more grateful that Mike wasn't in his head right now, because if Mike thought his little submissive streak and liking it rough was twisted, he was really not ready for the memory of some of the porn the techies traded around back in R&D.

“You're not weird, dude,” he said instead. “Pretty sure a lot of people like the stuff you do.” He sighed at the baffled rejection that came in response. “Also, pretty sure I've seen more porn than you, so I'd know.”

Mike stared at him. “What does… porn have to do with it?!”

Chuck stared back. “People sometimes watch the stuff they like? So if you trade clips with a bunch of people, you can see a bunch of different tastes.”

Startlement broadened into bewilderment. “ _Tastes_ , like blonde or brunette!” Mike said. “Not, like--this kind of stuff.”

...Ah. Of course, most of the stuff the techies traded had been either pirated from various execs’ private files or smuggled up from Motorcity. Meanwhile, the kind of porn anyone in the barracks would be able to get their hands on was probably pretty standard and tame. And…

“Did you even _have_ any with guys together?” Chuck asked, abruptly curious.

The way Mike’s mouth dropped open would've answered the question even without the intrigued astonishment echoing through him. Chuck snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, that exists, bro.” It obviously had never occurred to him to look for porn since coming down here, or he would've run into… a lot more stuff than that.

...Huh. If he'd only seen straight porn, and nothing particularly kinky, to the extent that he thought he was weird for liking his hair pulled and stuff, what else did he not know about?

As soon as Chuck thought of the question he could see the absences--or at least the absence of any noticeable desires or dislikes matching numbers of things that… Chuck, at least, thought Mike might enjoy. Hard to tell if he didn't know about them or just didn't care enough one way or the other for them to show up plainly like the things he loved, or hated _(don't laugh at me, don't mock me call me names come in my face choke me be a jerk)_.

...Agh. Okay, now Chuck wished he hadn't looked there. Mike had either had some really bad luck with picking fuckbuddies back in the barracks, or--yeah, okay, _or_ cadets were trained to be aggressive and competitive, with very little to reinforce any nicer tendencies. At least Chuck was undeniably better than those assholes, even if he only knew what to do because he was cheating.

Speaking of which, Mike was finally getting restless. Might as well give him something to do while Chuck tried to decide if he should risk trying something Mike didn't know about that he might not like, or go the safe route.

Chuck licked his lips, and Mike’s attention fixed on him again. “Okay. Strip for me,” he said.

Judging by the wave of _shock/want/uncertainty/excitement_ , Mike hadn't even noticed the squeak in his voice. He started wrestling with his boots, leaning back against the wall for balance, tore off his jacket, and hesitated reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. _What about him, do I get to see--_

Chuck didn't wait for him to ask aloud. “Mikey, who's in charge?” It was _so weird_ to say something like that and be going _what am I doing, what the hell is wrong with me that I'd think he wants me to say that, he's going to laugh in my face and walk out_ \--and then feel the shiver of heat that went through Mike as he swallowed.

“You are, s--uh. Ch-Chuck.”

Chuck had to smile. Mike kept slipping up like that, and the little twinge of embarrassed self-consciousness that went through him each time was really cute, but kind of getting in the way. Chuck wanted him turned on, not distracted by embarrassment.

“Would it be easier if I just ordered you to call me ‘sir’?” he asked, because Mike’s feelings about it were confused enough he couldn't tell at first. Mike reacted to the question with a mixture of heat and discomfort that was uncomfortable enough that Chuck immediately shook his head before Mike could speak. “No, okay, I won't. Just try to stop worrying about it, seriously. It's--” He stopped, rubbed at the back of his neck, looking away. “It's kind of hot, okay? That I can make you, like, distracted enough to fall back on old habits.”

Mike blinked. Chuck could tell he didn't really get that, but was willing to let it go. Shrugging, Mike pulled his t-shirt off with a swell of self-consciousness--being naked in front of everyone in the barracks showers had been a long time ago, and he had a lot more scars now.

“You're in charge,” he said, smiling up at Chuck through his lashes as Chuck allowed himself to get briefly distracted by the fact that _yeah_ , now that he was looking, Mike was very pretty, scars and all. “Does that mean you aren't getting naked?” He gave Chuck a mournful look and Chuck snorted at him.

“No, it means I'll do it when I feel like it.”

“Good,” Mike said with a surge of pleased anticipation. “Cuz I really want to see you.”

Chuck swallowed, stomach doing an unnerving squirm. On the one hand, taking his clothes off seemed like a terrible idea, Mike was going to be so disappointed. On the other, Mike was the one who for some reason thought Chuck was sexy, lanky limbs and bony body and all, so the possibility did exist that it wouldn't be the disaster he assumed.

“I guess you better behave yourself, then,” he said, trying not to sound breathless.

“I can do that,” Mike said, over a steady current of _I'll be good make him happy do it right I can do it_ , and shoved his pants down, tugging them off. He straightened up naked, smile uncertain, and as soon as Chuck managed to wrench his gaze away from all that skin (and the eager hard-on, oh _wow_ ) and pay attention, he blinked in disbelief. It wasn't just that Mike was worried about his scars, although he was (seeing every one as a sign of a time he hadn't been fast enough, good enough, _geez_ , Mikey). He also--

“Seriously?” Chuck said. “You think you're not good-looking?”

Mike's mouth opened and closed again, startlement passing through him, _he can see that?_ He shrugged. “I mean. I'm not, like, _ugly_ or anything--” _Not built and hunky like Texas or tall and graceful like Dutch or perfect and pretty like Chuck, just kind of a gangly mess with bad hair_.

Chuck’s jaw dropped. Okay, wow, he wasn't even going to _address_ the ‘perfect and pretty’ bit because _what_ , but also-- “No, Mike, oh my god. I can't believe you don't know how good you look.”

Startlement mixed with disbelief and an edge of rueful happiness, _Well, nice of him to try_. Chuck rolled his eyes and huffed before Mike could answer aloud.

“Okay, no, that's ridiculous,” he said, took two steps forward and smacked his hand in the middle of Mike’s bare chest, shoving him into the wall again. Mike’s eyes went wide with a jolt of want.

 _Gangly mess my ass_ , Chuck told him, _can't_ believe _you think that, here_ \--and he shoved a cluster of thoughts and impressions at Mike. An image of Mike’s daredevil grin, flashes of him flipping and spinning through fights with never a misstep, utterly physically adept. Confident stride, bright, reckless laugh, the way his face lit up trying some dangerous new trick. The way he stood with a foot propped on the wall behind him and his hands in his pockets, all broad shoulders and narrow hips and dark, expressive eyes.

Granted, Chuck had never looked at Mike like someone he might sleep with, but it didn't mean he didn't know what he _looked_ like. And now that Chuck was looking, it was only clearer how unfairly hot Mike was. He swept his eyes down Mike’s body, let Mike see the hungry appreciation, the new desire to touch, the hint of old annoyance because of _course_ Mike would be incredibly good-looking along with brave and heroic and everything else, and then wouldn't even be smug about it. Typical.

Mike's mouth was open, his eyes wide and shocked, bewildered amazement sweeping through him. _You think I look like_ that _?_ An impression echoed back to Chuck, of someone effortlessly cool, untouchable and breathtaking and _desirable_. Like if someone made a guy out of a rock song, some anthem to rebellion and freedom.

...Okay, maybe Chuck’s admiration was getting a little out of hand if it'd come across that clearly. His face heated. He hadn't meant it to be quite that blatant, but the point was-- _Pretty sure it's not just me, dude. Everybody likes you, everyone admires you, people either want to_ be _you or be_ with _you. (Trust you not to have noticed, geez…)_

The shock and astonishment wasn't going away, Mike's mind spinning, looking for a way to explain away the view of him that so sharply contradicted his own self-image. Chuck rolled his eyes, reached down and drew a finger lightly up Mike’s dick to distract him, heart pounding at his own daring. The gasped moan and the way Mike’s hips jerked was worth it, though, the way heat swept through him and wiped everything else away. Breathing harder, he stared at Chuck, hands lifting, then hesitating, unsure if he was allowed.

 _Yeah_ , Chuck said, seeing his intention, _it's okay, bro, you can touch me_.

With a little flare of relief and pleasure, Mike reached for him, tugging him down into a fervent kiss. One hand ran up the back of his neck into his hair and the other rested against his cheek, Mike’s touch almost reverent, echoed by the current of _love you want you can't believe I can touch you_.

It was intense and kind of overwhelming, but also _incredibly_ hot. Chuck moaned into the kiss, his own hands tightening on Mike’s bare shoulders until he thought to grab a handful of hair and tug. Mike groaned and broke the kiss to gasp, hips jerking against air, his mind shocked blank with heat.

Okay, wow, Chuck’s pants were way too tight. That was going to get painful in not too long.

“Feel free to do something about that, buddy,” Mike said, breathless, and Chuck huffed at him for eavesdropping. Mike snorted, grinning. “Yeah, okay, Chuckles, _I'm_ the one who's been doing that today.”

Chuck growled at him playfully and pushed him harder against the wall, then paused as his want spiked again. Cocking his head thoughtfully, Chuck let go and stepped back, ignoring Mike’s mild dismay to try an experiment.

“Hands against the wall, Mikey.”

Spine straightening, Mike obeyed, all sharp excitement and the warm flush of eagerness to please. Chuck studied the way that felt for a moment before stepping in and running a hand down his bare chest to circle around a nipple. Mike’s breathing quickened and he licked his lips, uncertain, hopeful. Chuck rubbed a thumb across it and Mike moaned aloud. Wow, he really did like that. Chuck wouldn't have thought to try that without the guidance of Mike’s own mind. (This was _so cool_.)

Pausing, Chuck studied the mix and level of Mike’s emotions again, then blinked as Mike made a breathless noise. _Doing science on me oh my god_ , he was thinking in a rush of giddy heat and delight, which was so the opposite of anything Chuck would've expected that he just stared for a moment.

“What?” Mike said. “You're so smart, dude, and I can watch you thinking!” An impression of organized, quicksilver precision, rapidly flicking from one thought to the next, tracking possibilities and chasing down tangents without losing its place. “It's seriously hot!”

It took a moment to process that, distracted as Chuck was by the view of his mind from the outside. Then it clicked. Mike was mildly sapiosexual, okay, he wouldn't have seen that coming.

A flicker of discomfort, disagreement. “I think it's just you, buddy. You're just really smart, and like, really good at thinking and stuff, so _seeing_ you think is really cool and kinda sexy.”

Yeah, Chuck was pretty sure that counted as sapiosexual, even if only selectively. He had better things to do than argue about it, though.

Grabbing Mike’s wrists, he pinned them together against the wall just above Mike’s head, holding them there with one hand as a breathless groan wrenched out of Mike, his mouth dropping open. The spike of want was hot and fierce enough to make Chuck bite back a groan as it echoed through to him. All right, that, that definitely counted as conclusive data. Mike liked being pinned even more than he liked taking orders. Probably if Chuck kept him like this _and_ thought of some appropriate orders, he'd be--

“Oh my _god_ , Chuckles,” Mike breathed.

\--He'd like that a lot, yeah, as expected. Chuck could work with that.

“Spread your legs,” he said hoarsely.

Mike whined as he obeyed, chest heaving, pupils so blown his eyes were almost black.

“Good boy,” Chuck said, and Mike shuddered, eyes almost rolling back in his head. Before this, Chuck’d had no idea he was so desperate for a little reassurance and positive reinforcement, but he reacted more strongly every time. Chuck wondered what would happen if he tied Mike down and just watched, telling him how good he was: would he fall apart without a hand on him?

“Oh my god,” Mike said, voice shaking, a mix of want and dismay coming off him. “Please, oh god--” He cut off, panting, and finished mentally, _Please don't stop touching me again please it's so good_ feeling _you don't stop please--_

 _Okay, okay I won't!_ Chuck answered, taken aback and turned on at the same time. _It's okay, I'm right here, not letting go._

Mike took a deep breath, the unhappy edge dissipating as he sank back into _can't believe he's doing this/likes me/wants me wow_ , the swirl of heat and happiness and amazement that was becoming familiar. Chuck could sense the faint reflection of what Mike was picking up from him, want and intrigue and that focused intent that made Mike go all shivery and amazed inside.

Well, good, Chuck could just keep doing what he was doing. Not like he'd planned to stop.

He reached up and thumbed Mike's nipple again, then pinched it gently and tugged, pinching harder when the response was milder than it should be. Mike's head thumped against the wall and he let out a gasping moan. _God_ that was good, Chuck definitely was aching now, he kind of wanted--

About to brush that thought away, he stopped, caught himself. Considered instead--carefully, holding the images clear and distinct in his mind in full detail--ordering Mike to his knees, pushing into his mouth, pulling him forward and back by the hair. Praising him the whole time, because he deserved it, because he was being _so good_ this whole time and Chuck knew he would _keep_ being good, he was always good, he tried so hard and did so well--

The sound Mike made was almost a sob. Chuck hastily refocused to find Mike with his eyes shut tight, gasping for breath and shaking slightly, obviously overwhelmed even seen from the outside.

It was instinct to kick himself internally, except Mike could hear that right now, abort, do something _useful_ , dammit--

 _Shit, sorry, you okay bro?_ he tried. _Didn't mean to overload you/go too far I promise, just want to make you feel good_ \--and wasn't that just typical? Even with a guide to Mike’s psyche and all his fucking turn-ons, Chuck could still find a way to screw it up-- _(no, shut up, not right now he's_ listening _)._

“Dude,” Mike said, still out of breath, rueful and shaken and amazed. “Give yourself a break, huh? It's not like you had that much longer to get used to this--oh come _on_ \--” he added to Chuck’s automatic response, _Doesn't matter I know how it works_. Mike answered the same way _, Yeah you got a head start and I_ know _you're a genius but seriously, dude, you can't expect to be an expert when you've had this thing for less than a day_.

He picked up out loud again, “It's intense, okay? I just--wasn't expecting that--” a shivery little jolt of wonder/awe/discomfort, _not sure I'm worth_ that _much praise_ , “--and neither were you! I mean, you didn't know it was gonna be that intense on this end.”

 _Sorry/you_ are _worth all the praise/didn't mean to--_ Chuck took a deep breath and tried to get his scattered thoughts to shut up.

“Buddy,” Mike said gently. “I'm _fine_ , okay?” _Although uh (no can't say that he'll think he's doing a bad job/don't ask/but I wanna_ come _but I'm pretty sure he knows already) no nothing never mind._

Chuck couldn't help grinning a little, biting his lip, and felt Mike realize what had amused him and go all sheepish, exasperation with himself segueing smoothly into cautious hope. _Since he_ does _know, maybe I can…_

That was even cuter, Mike being all optimistic like always. Tilting his head to one side, Chuck eyed Mike thoughtfully, one hand still firm around his wrists, the other now moving from one nipple to the other, pinching and tweaking and rolling. Mike groaned low in his chest, eyes squeezing shut.

“How many times in a row can you come, Mikey?” Chuck said. He kept his tone casual, knowing Mike could hear the intrigue under it, thoughts of pulling one orgasm after another from him until he was limp and shaky and oversensitive.

Mike whined, hips jerking, eyes snapping open wide to fix on Chuck’s face, _Oh my_ god _, I--oh_ wow. He took an unsteady breath and said, “I dunno, maybe three times?”

Oh, huh, he'd never tested it. Chuck smiled and imagined dropping to his knees, licking Mike’s dick, holding him by the hips while investigating how to give a blow job. He didn't know how, but with Mike’s responses to guide him it'd be easy to figure out, probably (he wouldn't be completely terrible maybe).

Mike moaned aloud, heat and that continuing amazement rolling through him. _God that'd be so_ hot _, buddy. You're blowing my mind with your_ fingertips _, you think it'd be harder with your_ mouth _?!_

Well, it did help that Mike had confidence in him, even if it was misplaced, Chuck thought absently. An interesting possibility had just occurred to him.

He focused on all the desire, the shivering heat running through Mike and making his knees unsteady, and did his best to amplify it, adding the hot pulsing want sliding through his own body. Then he reflected it back, just as his free hand slid from Mike’s chest down to his dick.

Mike’s head snapped back, knocking against the wall as he cried out, hips rocking forward hard into Chuck’s hand as the redoubled desire slammed into him. _Please please please oh god Chuck please!_

Yeah, that worked pretty well. Chuck stroked him slowly, feeling the growing urgency drawing Mike taut as he gasped and moaned, wrists flexing a little in Chuck’s grip as his body arched. It was so hot it took an effort to think, but Chuck persevered. He imagined pushing Mike down on his bed, cautiously pictured tying him down, then quickly dropped the ropes out of the image when a responding note of unease rose in Mike. No bondage, then, just pushing him down, spreading him open, fucking him slow and deep and steady--

The wave of astonished heat and desire flooding out of Mike almost drowned out Chuck’s nagging awareness that in reality, he probably wouldn't last five minutes like that.

 _Oh my god, dude_ , Mike said, and even his mental voice sounded shaky and breathless. _Like I would? ‘Sides, that just means you need practice, right? (Please practice on me, please please please god yes)_

 _What if I don't want to? What if I just want to drive you crazy with my hands?_ Chuck said. Mike on his knees, gasping and begging as Chuck touched him everywhere, made him come again and again--

The whine Mike let out at that made Chuck’s dick throb.

 _Not fair though_ , Mike protested, _I want you to feel good too, can't all be about me_ , and deeper, quieter, _(wanna touch you too, I've waited so long,_ allowed _now,_ want _to)_. Chuck blinked at the imagined flashes of his own pale, freckled limbs, long and bony, and Mike's hunger to get his hands on them, on Chuck.

 _You're going to have to wait for that_ , Chuck pointed out, and got back _I know I know (I'll be good be patient but) you'll let me, right?_

 _Yeah_ , Chuck said, grateful that his mental voice didn't shake and squeak like it would out loud. _Yeah, bro, I'll let you touch me_. _Eventually_. 

Mike moaned, coherent thought lost in the rising tide of need. Chuck licked his lips and sucked in a rough breath, trying to decide what he wanted right now out of all the possibilities. What he wanted, and what he thought he could manage. Honestly, he _wanted_ to fuck Mike, but he was way too nervous to actually try it. Mike wanted it, though, so if he could manage _something_ , maybe something small…

Mike caught what he was thinking, of course, and groaned aloud. _God yes please, it'll feel so good_ \--

“Keep your hands where they are,” Chuck said hoarsely, and pulled his hand away from Mike’s wrists, which stayed pressed to the wall above his head like they were stuck there. “Good.”

Even for one finger, he was going to need lube, so--

 _No_ , Mike said unexpectedly, _no, please, don't, um--I don't need it/don't bother (feels good without, rough sting and friction, so hot)_.

Chuck’s eyebrows went up. He considered a minute. _Fine, no lube. Open your mouth._

Mike’s hips bucked into Chuck’s still slowly stroking hand and he whimpered, mind going blank again with heat. His mouth opened obediently, and closed around Chuck’s finger, tongue curling and stroking as he sucked gently.

Chuck swallowed hard, dick aching. Man, when Mike got his hands on him Chuck was going to last like thirty seconds, he just knew it.

Hot delight and satisfaction washed through Mike at the thought. _Sounds amazing to me, buddy_.

 _Yeah, well_ , Chuck responded, and pulled his wet finger back out. _It's_ my _turn right now_. He sank to his knees, a wave of heat going through Mike, and slid his hand between Mike’s thighs, back behind his balls, to nudge that finger up and in. Spit was enough to let it push inside, but definitely not an adequate substitute for lube; getting Mike the friction he wanted wasn't going to be a problem.

Mike made a hungry sound as Chuck’s finger slid in to the knuckle. _Please yes good so good more_.

It was useful, having Mike’s thoughts and desires to guide him. Chuck didn't have to worry about whether he was doing it right, pressing too hard or aiming right or anything, because Mike knew what he wanted, knew how it should feel and could help Chuck get there without even being conscious of it.

 _A personalized guide to playing nicely with Mike Chilton’s prostate_ , Chuck thought to himself with a guilty flicker of amusement, and then winced when Mike made a choking noise and laughed breathlessly. Right, yes, skin contact, Mike could hear him.

 _Oh my god you're so amazing/feels so good/yes yes yes more_ , Mike’s mind was babbling.

Chuck kept rubbing that one finger gently inside him, pressing and circling, and moved his other hand on Mike's dick at the same time, but he didn't feel like that was quite enough. Shifting on his knees, he looked up through his bangs at Mike, leaned in and cautiously licked the underside of his dick. Dark eyes wide on Chuck's face, Mike made a strangled whimper, arms jerking as his back arched, and the swell of amazed heat and want was enough to make Chuck open his mouth and go for it.

Mike was distracted enough now that Chuck had to push through his mind to find the guidance he needed, and knowing theoretically what to do didn't translate to physical skill at it, which was annoying. Chuck would've preferred being an immediate expert, thanks, because this fumbling around bullshit was frustrating as hell, but on the upside, Mike didn't seem to be paying attention to any mistakes. Mike was getting really close, actually, breathing harshly, muscles quivering and straining, his hips jerking and twitching as Chuck pressed the tip of his tongue right under the head of Mike's dick. His arms were still above his head where Chuck had left them, though, he was being so careful about that, so good--

Mike whined at the back of his throat. _Please please please Chuck, can I, please I need to, please let me?_

Somewhat startled, Chuck looked to see if he was actually waiting for permission or if he needed something else, and saw it was some of both. _Yeah, bro_ , he said reassuringly, _it's okay, you can come_ , and raked the nails of his free hand down the back of Mike's thigh as he sucked hard on Mike's dick. The pain was a starburst at the back of Mike's head and he slammed over the edge with a gasp, hips rocking involuntarily as he came in waves. Chuck almost choked on his dick and didn't even care, too occupied clinging to his own self-control to keep from following, swept up in Mike's pleasure.

 _Holy shit_ , he thought vaguely, letting Mike's softening dick slide out of his mouth with a last absent lick, swallowing a few times to get the disagreeable taste out of his mouth. He set his hands on Mike's thighs and focused on catching his breath and ignoring his own highly frustrated dick. _Drawbacks of telempathic sex_.

Mike's answer wasn't even coherent enough to be words, just a sense of amused, incredulous disagreement. He didn't think Chuck almost coming with him was a drawback.

 _Weren't you the one who wanted to touch me?_ Chuck pointed out. _Be pretty sad if I'd already come and taken that off the table._

Still panting, Mike looked down at him and grinned slowly, face flushed and hair all messy. _Who says it'd be off the table?_ he said. _You're the one who asked how many times_ I _can come in one night, I'm okay with finding out_ your _answer_.

That was way too hot, and Chuck couldn't help groaning, well aware that Mike could tell exactly how much of a turn-on he found that. He couldn't help it, the idea of Mike sweetly, mercilessly forcing him into one orgasm after another, until he was a sticky, shaking, tear-streaked mess, was just. Really, really good.

The wash of startlement and faint unease had Chuck's head jerking up, his hands yanking away from Mike's skin like a reflex, but too late, he'd already seen, he already knew--

“Sorry,” Chuck mumbled, stumbling to his feet and stepping back, half-thinking of leaving except this was his room, where else was he going to go--god, he was such an idiot, pushing it like that. Wanting too much, freaking Mike out.

Mike’s growing dismay abruptly solidified into determination and he dropped his arms and stepped away from the wall, grabbing Chuck's arm before he could pull away, reaching down, taking firm hold of his bare wrist. “Come on, dude,” he said quietly, affection all tangled up with frustration at himself, rueful dismay, uncertainty. All he was confident of was that he didn't want Chuck to pull away and he wanted to make him feel good. Chuck swallowed, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“Please don't go,” Mike said. “Chuckles--you don't have to apologize for what you want, okay? I just--sorry, you startled me, you know?” _Don't really get it_ , his thoughts went on, _seems kind of mean. I don't want to be mean, don't ever want to hurt you, make you_ \--a flash of the mental image Chuck’s desire had sparked in Mike's mind, Chuck naked and sweaty and _crying_ , lying there all worn out and wrecked but in the wrong way.

“Oh my god,” Chuck mumbled, and ducked his head to hide behind his bangs. _No_ , he says without really meaning to, _that's not it, it's--(overwhelmed and sensitive/shaky-weak with pleasure/pushed past your limits by someone who cares for you, who'll hold you until you recover and the tears stop coming)--it's not mean._

 _Oh_ , Mike thought, turning that over kind of wonderingly in his mind. _Huh. Guess not_. He gave Chuck a speculative look. “So…” _Do you/does he want that now/bet I could do that for him, make him feel so good he can't take it_ …

Chuck had to gasp in a breath, shivering hard, before he could get an answer out. "Nnno," he said reluctantly. He _did_ want it, but the mental-emotional connection was already a lot going on; Chuck didn't want to know what his mental control would look like if he got worn out like that.

"Dude, like I care!" Mike answered his thought in exasperation. "Come on, what are you afraid of?"

Chuck glared at him, biting back the answer _Everything_ , which did no good when Mike caught it anyway. Taking a deep breath, Chuck said firmly, "No. Not right now. This is weird, bro, I don't feel like trying to deal with it when I'm taken apart."

Mike sighed and nodded, stepping in closer. "We can try it later, sometime. So what do you want?" His mind flicked hopefully through several ideas, and Chuck licked his lips and selected one.

"I want you on your knees," he said, and watched Mike's eyes dilate.

"Okay," Mike said breathlessly, and immediately dropped to kneel. Even though he was in Mike's head, the eagerness of it startled Chuck, how plainly happy he was to obey. Not to mention what an incredible rush it was to have Mike Chilton kneeling naked at his feet.

...With one knee aching, damn. It had mostly stopped hurting until he hit the floor, and now it ached again and Mike wasn't even really paying attention. Chuck frowned at him, went and grabbed one of the pillows off his bed and dropped it on the floor in front of Mike, who blinked at it.

"Kneel on that and maybe you'll stop hurting where that dickhead kicked you," Chuck says pointedly.

Mike stared at him, a flash of startlement bright in his mind before fading into rueful amusement, both emotions almost as clear on his face. "Okay, so your new trick has some downsides, Chuckles," he sighed, shifting onto the pillow, and then looked up expectantly. "Can I have your dick _now?_ "

Chuck made a choked little squeaky sound, but he couldn't help it, he hadn't expected that. "No! I--not until you ask nicely!" he managed. He was supposed to be in charge here, after all.

Mike's eyes gleamed. "Got it," he said, and licked his lips. "Please can I have your dick, Chuck?" His voice had gone low and husky, and he leaned forward to _oh god_ rub his cheek against the fly of Chuck's jeans like getting into them was everything he'd ever wanted. "I just want to suck your big, sexy dick until you come, won't you let me have it?"

" _Mikey!_ " Chuck shrieked, face burning. "Oh my _god!_ "

"What?" Mike said, but his innocent tone was totally ineffective when Chuck could feel his amusement bubbling up like irrepressible giggles.

Chuck glared, cheeks still hot, reached out to grab Mike's hair, and shook him by it, getting a little shocked noise out of him. "You better behave yourself, bro, or my dick is gonna be off-limits until you convince me you're serious, and bad porn imitations aren't gonna do it."

"Hey," Mike protested, "I thought that was a pretty _good--ah!_ " He gasped as Chuck shook him again, and the hot sting of it sent a jolt of want through him, leaving him breathless and panting. It was reassuring that he did really like it that rough, Chuck hadn't gone too far, but he tried to stay stern and not show it.

"Okay!" Mike gasped, tugging against Chuck's grip to try to nuzzle at his fly again. "I really do want your dick, please, Chuckles? Please lemme have it, I wanna make you feel good!" _Wanna suck you til you come,_ his thoughts ran on underneath, more image and desire than words, _wanna make you lose it, pull my hair, fuck my face and then stroke my hair when you're done._

A whimper came out of Chuck, his fingers going nerveless as all the blood in his body rushed to his dick. He took a gasping breath and managed, "Okay! You can have, yeah, we can… do that," scrabbling his pants open to get his dick out.

Mike made a hungry noise and basically lunged for it, both hands and then his mouth, lips closing around the head and sucking so Chuck's knees almost gave.

"Mm," Mike said, and pulled back. "Bed, sit down, dude."

"Right," Chuck said, and stumbled over to his bed to sit down on the edge. Mike jumped up to follow him, almost dropped to his knees on the floor again, caught Chuck's warning look and grabbed the pillow to kneel on, rolling his eyes.

"Good job," Chuck said anyway. Instead of the second eyeroll he expected, Mike smiled a little, a surge of sheepish warmth going through him. Then he went for Chuck's dick again, and Chuck kind of dissolved into a mess of whimpers and moans.

Mike definitely knew what he was doing, and if he was a little less careful with his teeth than Chuck would've preferred, his willingness to exploit his apparent lack of a gag reflex completely made up for it. Chuck lost himself in slick wet warmth and suction and the eager intensity of Mike's thoughts, pleasure at touching Chuck and making him feel good, determination to do it right, be good enough, and below that the warm hum of affection and want and love. It was dizzying, intoxicating, and Chuck was barely in his own head by the time his body shuddered and came. The shock of pleasure jerked him back to himself, hands in Mike's hair as he came down Mike's throat with little shivery noises.

When he was done, Mike pulled off with one last lick, making Chuck squeak faintly. Then Mike squinted at him, hands still on Chuck's hips inside his open jeans, nodded to himself, and climbed up on the bed to sit on the edge and wrap himself around Chuck, hugging him hard and pressing his cheek against Chuck's.

Chuck clung to him, shivering and feeling like a pathetic idiot. He would never have _asked_ to be held after sex, but thanks to the stupid mushrooms Mike knew he wanted it anyway.

"Hey," Mike said, squeezing him, "what's wrong with that? Holding you is great!" _Never had anyone to hold like this before_ , he thought wistfully.

Great, now Chuck felt humiliated _and_ dumb about it.

"Hmm," Mike said, and started dropping little kisses all over Chuck's face. Chuck squeaked and then giggled and shoved at him, trying to be indignant, but it wasn't easy to maintain when he could feel Mike's happiness at being allowed to touch him and hold him and show affection like this. The remaining embarrassment faded away quickly under the onslaught, until Chuck finally huffed and kissed Mike back, flushed and smiling crookedly.

"Hi," Mike said, rubbing his nose against Chuck's.

"Hi, you dork," Chuck said, breaking into a helpless grin, and stroked a hand over Mike's hair. Mike's eyes closed with a surge of delight that made Chuck's chest warm, so he kept patting for a few minutes.

Mike straightened when he stopped. "So, how'd I do?" Mike said, and he might have sounded casual if Chuck couldn't feel the quickening hum of anxiety running through his thoughts. _Good enough? Will he stay, did I mess it up, too much/not enough?_

"Mike," Chuck said, "this wasn't a _test_ , some kind of, like, boyfriend audition. You don't have to prove yourself to me, bro, I thought we had this conversation already."

There was a swell of sheepishness from Mike, but mingled with uncertainty, and the anxiety had only faded slightly. Chuck glared at him, which didn't help anything, and then sighed and threw at him, _I love you you dumbass_ , exasperation mixed with affection and quiet disbelief and… happiness.

Chuck hadn't actually noticed how good he was feeling until now, but… he hadn't expected any of this to work out, had expected to mess up or have Mike get mad over _something._ Instead Mike had shrugged off Chuck reading his mind like it wasn't a massive invasion of privacy, eagerly accepted Chuck trying cluelessly to dom him, dealt with Chuck trying to do sex for real and having no idea what he was doing like it was no problem at all. Mike made it work and was content with it, and Chuck was so relieved and pleased he hardly knew what to do.

It was weird. He was used to expecting the worst, used to the universe proving him right most of the time, and it made it hard to relax and enjoy the good moments, but right now he was full of warm fuzzy sex chemicals and Mike was in love with him and didn't think he was a pathetic wimp at all, and everything was awesome, actually. It was really weird, but _nice_.

"Geez, buddy," Mike murmured, and Chuck felt a rueful edge join the affection Mike was sending at him. "You gotta be nicer to yourself, you're not a wimp."

Mike frowned at Chuck's immediate knee-jerk rejection of that concept, and Chuck sighed and cut him off before he could argue further, at least out loud. "We're not arguing about this right now," he said firmly, and started straightening his clothes, getting tucked away and zipped up, and… causing a swell of disappointment from Mike. "We can do more stuff in a minute, dude," Chuck said, "I just can't, you know, talk about serious stuff when my, when I'm half-dressed."

"Serious stuff?" Mike said cautiously.

"Yeah," Chuck said, and then just _couldn't_ say it out loud. _Like is this are we dating/boyfriends/A Relationship (oh god I'm such an idiot, that sounds so dumb, this is terrible)_

"Oh," Mike breathed, and the swell of delight and relief coming through only dimmed when Mike wondered if Chuck _wanted_ to.

"Of course I do, you doofus," Chuck said, and Mike frowned at him.

"I can read your mind, dude," he pointed out, hand resting on Chuck's wrist. "You're worried it's gonna make things weird with the others, you're worried about--them thinking you're not good enough for me, Texas making fun of you--geez, really? Chuckles, he wouldn't do that! I mean, not about this!"

"You don't know that," Chuck sighed, "but it doesn't matter if he does, I'm used to it. It'll be fine, okay? I'll deal with it."

"Oh," Mike said abruptly, eyes widening. "Oh dang. You can read their thoughts too." _You'll get their first startled reactions even if they're not what they'd say out loud--_

 _Yeah_ , Chuck agreed, _if it lasts that long._

“If it lasts?” Mike repeated, startled. “You think it’ll wear off?”

“The Terras would have _way_ more of an advantage over us if it was permanent,” Chuck pointed out. “It’s lasted longer than I expected, but it’ll probably be gone by tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Mike said, relief coming through clearly. “Well, cool. Y’know, it’s fun to try out, but it’d be pretty weird as a permanent thing.”

“That had occurred to me,” Chuck agreed.

"So... _can_ we tell the others about us?" Mike asked with a hopeful sideways look.

"Oh, I dunno, Mikey," Chuck couldn't resist saying, "maybe we should just… wait for them to figure it out."

Mike burst out laughing. "Imagine Dutch's _face_ ," he said, and Chuck started giggling too.

“You can tell them, if you want,” Chuck said after calming down a bit. “But I’d rather not be there, if it’s if it’s okay.” He tried to think through his concerns about Texas and Dutch’s probable reactions, and then realized he wasn’t touching Mike. Sighing, he put a fingertip on Mike’s bare knee and thought it again as clearly as he could, but he was badly distracted, suddenly newly aware that Mike was still naked.

“I still don’t, I don’t think they’re gonna be like that,” Mike said, “but yeah, you can keep your distance when I tell them, it’s fine.” He ran a hand through his bangs, smoothing them distractedly into better order, and his cheeks were faintly flushed. He noticed Chuck noticing, Chuck could tell, could feel the hot interest ricocheting back and forth between them.

“So, um,” Mike said. “Should I put my clothes back on, or what?”

If Chuck hadn’t been in his head it could have passed for a joke, but Mike wasn’t entirely joking. He was still deferring to Chuck, hoping for orders to follow, and it was so ridiculously hot Chuck had to take a breath before he could answer.

“Definitely ‘what’,” Chuck said, looking Mike over with a thoughtful smile. “I don’t think you’re gonna need clothes for a while, Mikey. After all, I’ve got some tests to run.”

“Oh,” Mike said breathlessly. “Okay.”

The tests went extremely well. It turned out Mike could come a lot more times in a row than he thought, and also that when he was worked up and sensitized enough, Chuck could fuck him and it didn’t matter that Chuck had never done that before, because he could get Mike off plenty fast to not embarrass himself first.

It was near the end of the testing, when Chuck was just sprawled across Mike, both of them naked and sticky and breathing hard, when Mike noticed it.

“Are you… thinking quieter, now?” he panted.

“Mm?” said Chuck, who was mostly not thinking at all, for once. “No?”

“Huh,” Mike said. “Think something at me.”

 _You’re a goofball and I love you_ , Chuck thought, kind of giddily.

Mike got an intent look on his face, then glanced uncertainly at Chuck. “Did--you just called me a goof, right?”

Chuck pushed up on his elbows to blink. "I, yeah, that was _part_ of it..." He listened more carefully to Mike's thoughts, which were full of uncertainty and mixed hope and concern. The emotions were still clear, but the details of the thoughts were harder to hear than they'd been.

"I think the mushrooms are wearing off," Mike said.

“Huh,” Chuck said. Mike was so relieved it was irritating. Of course the telempathy was a liability sometimes, Chuck had had full proof of that within the first minute, but... He thought about staggering out of the garage, swamped by Texas's and Dutch's thoughts and emotions and senses, and the shock of feeling their concern for him, and later the seamless way he’d known what Mike wanted. Then he realized Mike wouldn't catch any of his conflicted thoughts unless he spoke them out loud, and couldn't decide if that was more an annoyance or a relief.

It was possible that rather than the spores wearing off, Chuck's brain was just… dampening the effect now he'd had it for a while, subconsciously controlling how closely he "listened". He focused on Mike's thoughts and tried to hear them more clearly. They didn't get any louder.

It was also possible the exposure to the spores had activated a mental muscle that was now tired out and not working as well--although Mike presumably would've been using his own muscle, and much less often, so his shouldn't be tired yet. However torn Chuck felt about it, he couldn't ignore the most reasonable conclusion.

"Buddy?" Mike said uncertainly, and Chuck realized he'd said something a moment ago that Chuck didn't register.

"Sorry, yeah," Chuck said, sighing. "You're right, it’s wearing off." He put his head down on Mike's chest with a flop and Mike huffed softly.

"Are you… okay with that?" Mike tried. “You seem kinda down.”

Of course it was a liability in all kinds of ways. But at the same time… it was so nice to actually know what his teammates thought of him, that they weren't scornful or pitying, they actually _liked_ him, even Texas. It was so good to say something and immediately know Mike didn't think it was stupid, he wasn't thinking Chuck was an idiot or reevaluating their friendship or anything.

He’d known it wasn’t permanent, he had no excuse to be disappointed. Still, he was really, really gonna miss the instant cure for social anxiety.

Chuck sighed again, deeper. "I mean, it was pretty handy. But I'll survive."

"Okay," Mike said softly, and kissed him. "I'm glad you're gonna survive. I kinda like having you around."

"I know," Chuck said. He expected the smile to take effort, but just the memory of Mike in the car curved his lips with a giddy burst of warmth, brushing aside the remnants of dismay. "I've been in your head, I know exactly how much you like me."

"I mean, you've also had me sucking your dick and following your orders and letting you do all kinds of things to me," Mike pointed out, cheeks flushing. "Those should probably have been clues too."

"Hmm," Chuck said, leaning in to nibble Mike's earlobe. He was still a little disgruntled at his loss, but Mike was _right here_ , and willing, and Chuck wasn't about to forget everything he'd felt from Mike, even when he couldn't sense it anymore. Mike thought Chuck was _hot_.

"You know," he said against Mike's jaw, "maybe I could use another clue, just to make sure I've really got it now."

Mike shivered under him, grinning breathlessly. "I think we can do that."


End file.
